Kitchen
by AWickedMemory
Summary: ShikaNeji Neji loves kitchens... but why? WAFF, shounen-ai, vague reference to an intimate relationship. Just a little feel-good fic.


**Title:** Kitchen  
**Author:** D.A. Maxwell  
**Fandom:** Naruto (KISHIMOTO Masashi)  
**Pairing:** ShikaNeji  
**Rating:** E for Everyone. :D ... Nah. PG, I guess.

--

Neji loved kitchens.

It had been five months since he'd come to live with Shikamaru. At first, they had just been roommates: the Nara needed to get away from his mother, and the Hyuuga needed to get away from his clan. They split the rent evenly, bought separate groceries, and generally lived around each other rather than together. It was a practical arrangement. They hardly knew each other, and were fine that way.

Nobody on the outside could tell when things started to change, but it didn't really matter. All the citizens of Konoha knew was that one day, everybody seemed to suddenly wake up to the realization that Nara Shikamaru and Hyuuga Neji had become nearly inseparable. They shopped together, they trained together, they'd eat out together for lunches and always, always go home together for dinner.

Neji cherished these dinners. He cherished each one like the first, when one night, three and a half months ago, he'd come home to find Shikamaru busily bustling around the kitchen.

--

This had been strange enough as it was. Shikamaru was always more inclined toward grabbing something quick, healthy and easy, whereas Neji bought and brought home dinner more often than not. That night, however, he'd been too tired to go browsing the marketplace or lingering at a restaurant crowded with the evening rush.

Neji had never paid attention to the kitchen before. It was just a shared space in their shared apartment, convenient for its decently sized refrigerator and large sink. Other than that, it was insignificant. Right?

What on earth had stirred his indolent roommate into donning an apron-- no, really, an _apron_, a crisp, black apron with pockets on the front and various utensils stuck in said pockets-- and cooking up a storm? Did he have a bad day? Was he ill? Had he gone mad?

Neji approached cautiously, unsure of what to expect. When Shikamaru merely glanced at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly before returning to... whatever he was doing with that spoon and bowl... he frowned. "Shikamaru..."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

"... Cooking."

Snorting, Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Then why did you ask what I'm doing?"

"You... cook?"

Rather than directly anwering the question, Shikamaru set down the bowl of batter and turned to face the confused brunette, casually leaning back against the counter as he did. How did he always manage to look so comfortable and at ease no matter where he was or how he stood? "You've met my mom, right?"

Neji nodded.

"Okay. Do I need to elaborate?"

Neji frowned.

Shikamaru sighed, but something in him still seemed relaxed and amused rather than annoyed. "Chores. I used to have to cook with her all the time." He gestured at the batter. "Besides, this isn't really cooking. I just felt like making a cake."

"A... cake," Neji echoed.

"Yeah." Snickering at the older man's expression, Shikamaru gestured for him to come closer. Neji hesitated, but finally shed his coat and dropped his keys on the counter before going over to the kitchen. "Wash your hands."

Giving him a strange look, Neji did as told.

"Okay. Now take this spoon, and mix the batter like this. Got it?"

"Why am I doing this?"

"Good question. Keep at it." Stepping away, Shikamaru opened a cupboard door and pulled out a few other items that Neji didn't even know they _had_: butter, cream cheese, milk, sugar, vanilla, coconut flakes, and sprinkles. _Sprinkles_. As in, the little coloured bits of sugar that went on a six year old's birthday cake.

Bewildered, Neji continued to mix until Shikamaru told him it was done. He had the brunette pour the batter into a pan, then popped it into the oven that had been preheating the entire time and proceeded to clean and prepare the rest of the supplies. This time, rather than participate, Neji watched.

After about half an hour had passed, Shikamaru opened the oven. Neji peered inside, expecting to see the pan with its flat batter resembling white brownies or the like-- and was startled to find a tall, smooth, cake-like object. Shikamaru set the cake on the counter to cool, wandering away to have a smoke, but Neji remained in the kitchen.

He was completely enraptured. Where had all that extra mass come from? The heat couldn't just _create_ matter where there wasn't matter before. Sure, cake had a completely different consistency from batter-- anyone knew that-- but it had gone from a two-inch tall pile of goop into a five-inch tall vanilla cake on its own, in less than an hour.

When Shikamaru returned, they finished. The frosting had been made as they waited the first time around, so Shikamaru showed Neji how to apply it. They added the sprinkles along the outside edge of the top surface, just for the hell of it, then stepped back to admire their work before-- what a _shame_!-- cutting into it and starting to devour it apart.

After each had finished off a good-sized slice, they put the cake on a large plate, covered it, and stuck it in the refrigerator for later consumption. Shikamaru started to remove his apron, but Neji stopped him with a serious look.

"Show me more."

--

Their dinner that night, using only the ingredients on hand, was simply some stir-fried vegetables with beef bits inside. Still, there was something special and unique about it, even if that 'something' was just that it had been The First.

Over the next several months, Shikamaru showed Neji how to make an assortment of dishes: pancakes, waffles, omelettes and crêpes for breakfast, pastas and meat dishes and fish dishes and breads for dinner, pies and cookies and brownies for dessert, smoothies and juices and teas for drinks. They made appetizers and they made side dishes. They made foods that were quick and simple, and they made foods that were elaborate and decorative. They no longer ate separately, and short of being on a mission, _never_ spent dinnertime away from home.

Neji became very fond of the kitchen. He liked how quickly it could become a complete mess, and how just as quickly it could be cleaned up. He liked running his hands through warm water as soap suds bubbled from the sponge and made the plates and cups shiny as new. He liked watching the colour of meat change as they cooked, and tasting soups to see if they needed more salt and pepper, or that extra touch of basil, or a bit of thyme. He liked learning which seasonings went well with chicken, with beef, with pork, with different types of fish. He liked opening the refrigerator to find it full of readily available, delicious foods, and he liked cleaning out the refrigerator to make room for more. He liked the homey feeling of having leftovers, and he liked taking leftovers and combining them into something new. (Often with mixed results.)

And he liked the waiting time with Shikamaru. To his surprise, he found the other man to be an excellent conversationalist when he bothered to be. Shikamaru seemed to have some ideas on everything, even if he showed reluctance at the tedium of having to put these ideas into concrete terms and voice them aloud. He was witty when he was bored enough to be, serious when he needed to be, and almost _playful_ when he wanted to be.

Most of their peers knew about the first two, but not about the last. Shikamaru's gentle teasing seemed to be reserved for Neji, and Neji alone, and although he didn't quite understand why, it pleased him more than he would admit.

It wasn't a surprise to either of them when their harmless verbal spars were joined by casual touches-- a brush of the arm as one sidestepped the other, an elbow resting on a shoulder as they waited, a tap or poke to get their companion's attention-- and then slightly less casual touches.

The day Shikamaru discovered that Neji was _incredibly_ ticklish was a day he gained a very powerful weapon.

Their dinners usually turned out fine, but once in a while, something would burn just a bit. These tended to be the days where Shikamaru would begin tickling Neji, and Neji would be squirming and struggling and fighting back until they both collapsed breathlessly against the counter, or a wall, or the floor, or the couch.

It also wasn't a surprise, then, when these moments of content exhaustion led to lingering embraces, or gentler smiles.

Nor was it a surprise the first time they ended up a little closer than usual on the couch, and it only seemed natural to close that final distance and share something sweeter than the cookies burning in the oven.

The kitchen was their place for these meetings: they cooked, talked, laughed, and occasionally kissed there. The talking, laughing, and occasionally kissing moved to outside of the kitchen, to lazy days where they'd curl up to read together on the couch, or sit facing each other on opposite sides of a _go_ board. The talking and laughing gradually spilled out onto the streets and into the public eye, but the kissing always, _always_ remained private.

And when the kissing became something more-- well, that remained private as well.

--

Hinata was the first to figure it out. One day, when she and her cousin were having a peaceful tea together, the topic came up.

"I'm glad you're so happy these days. Nara-san seems like a wonderful person."

"... He is."

And that was that. She took another sip of tea, smiled warmly, then moved on to discussing Hanabi's new pet kitten.

--

Shikamaru's father was second. Training with his son on a sunny afternoon, he called for a break, and they dropped onto the grass to drink some water.

"So when are you planning to properly bring that Hyuuga boy over to talk to your mom?" Shikaku grunted.

"... Dunno."

And that was that. They each took another gulp of water, then stood to resume training.

--

By the end of the sixth month, nobody had to say it, but the entire village knew. Those who had a problem with it warily kept their distance, while those who accepted it were happy, if not a bit surprised, for the young couple. It was a public secret, so to speak.

But the kitchen was still their own.

And Neji loved it.

--

**A/N:**  
... No, I don't know. XD This just popped into my head, and I should be working on chapter six of _Chrysanthemum_ instead-- or hell, I should be sleeping for school or doing homework, it's two A.M.-- but I had to get this out first.  
If you liked it, please review and tell me what you liked! If you hated it, please review and tell me what you didn't. P Thanks for reading! ♥


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